


Heart and Soul

by BabyBeBop



Category: Looking (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Marijuana, Mystery, Oral Sex, Post Movie, Rimming, Road Trip, Romance, Sex, Some mild creepiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 06:08:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7879507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabyBeBop/pseuds/BabyBeBop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>En route to Texas, Richie and Patrick spend the night at a hotel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart and Soul

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own these characters - or Beyoncé's music, unfortunately.  
> You can find me on tumblr [here](https://babybebopfanfic.tumblr.com/).

“Got me looking so crazy right now, your love’s got me looking so crazy right now,” Patrick sang along, loudly, to the Beyoncé track that was coming out of his iPod.  
  
Richie shot him a sidelong glance from the driver’s seat, amused.  
  
“What?” Patrick asked, grinning at him.  
  
Richie chuckled. “You’re a little off key, Pato.”  
  
Patrick’s jaw dropped. “No, I’m not. I sound _exactly_ like Beyoncé.”  
  
“Uh, ok,” Richie smiled.  
  
“You should do Jay-Z’s part. It’s coming up,” Patrick suggested, mostly kidding. He knew Richie wouldn’t do it – rap was not his thing. He would fucking love it if he would though.  
  
“I don’t think so. Maybe next time.”  
  
Patrick rested his hand on Richie’s thigh and gazed out the passenger side window. The scenery had changed to flat desert, with a few shrubs scattered here and there. A sign read “Arizona: The Grand Canyon State Welcomes You.”

\---

They pulled into a McDonalds for dinner, ordering Big Macs and Cokes. After settling into a booth, they tore into their food.  
  
“I’m going to gain 20 pounds on this trip,” Patrick predicted, devouring his Big Mac. “We’ve eaten so much fast food. ‘Fatrick’ would have loved this.”  
  
“I know. I forgot how much I used to love McDonalds.” Richie sipped his Coke through a straw. “We haven’t found any hot dog places yet though.”  
  
“I’ll start looking,” Patrick promised. “If I’m going to get chunky again, I’m taking you with me.”  
  
Richie laughed and stole a handful of his fries. 

\---

“Oh my God, we have to stop here,” Patrick pleaded. He had been dozing off in the passenger seat, but he was suddenly very awake and full of energy again. He tugged on Richie’s sleeve and pointed at the sign.  
  
The Desert Inn promised HBO, Wi-Fi and a “Deluxe Honeymoon Suite.”  
  
“You really need HBO, Patrick?”  
  
Patrick shook his head. “No. Fuck HBO – I want to see the Deluxe Honeymoon Suite.”  
  
“Oh yeah?” Richie grinned. “You feelin’ like a honeymooner?”  
  
Patrick smiled at him adoringly. He actually was. He’d been walking on air ever since he’d finally left his job in Denver and reunited with him in San Francisco. They were in love and starting a new life together – just like a newly married couple.  
  
“It does sound pretty romantic,” Richie admitted, swerving to pull into the parking lot. “We can check it out – see if the room’s still available.”  
  
“What do you think they mean by ‘Deluxe’?” Patrick speculated, his mind racing with possibilities. “Oh my God – do you think there’s a water bed? That could be kind of hot.”  
  
“I don’t know. Any kind of bed would be good right now.” Richie was beat. He’d been driving for most of the day, only letting Patrick take over occasionally.  
  
“If you would let me drive more…” Patrick started to point out.  
  
Richie found a parking space and slid the truck into it. “It’s alright, Pato. I don’t mind.”  
  
They tumbled out of the truck and then grabbed a few duffle bags from the back, packed with everything they would need for an overnight stay.  
  
“I know you don’t mind. I just don’t want you to be completely exhausted before we get to Texas.”  
  
Richie slung an arm around his shoulders. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just get a room, ok?”  
  
Patrick leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips before they went inside to check-in.

\---

The hotel clerk was a middle-aged man in a baseball cap who looked like he’d spent way too much time in the sun. When Richie asked for the honeymoon suite, his leathery face creased into a deep frown, his eyes darting back and forth between them.  
  
“The honeymoon suite,” Richie repeated, his tone taking on an edge.  
  
Patrick grabbed Richie’s arm, resigning himself to the fact that they might not be getting that room – or possibly any room.  
  
Then, the clerk surprised them. “It’ll be 70 dollars per night, paid up front,” he informed them in a flat, disinterested voice, as though he’d been repeating the same rates to customers for too many years.  
  
Richie took out his wallet and paid with a credit card. The clerk heaved a great sigh and stood up. He very slowly walked over to a rack of keys and selected one, handing it over to them.  
  
“Have a good evening,” he intoned monotonously, lowering himself back into his chair and turning his attention back to the magazine he had been reading – a tattered old copy of “Sports Illustrated.”  
  
“And you as well,” Patrick responded cheerfully, turning to Richie and raising his eyebrows. 

\---

“I don’t know if he’s a homophobe or not.” Patrick said, while Richie slipped the key into the lock. “He just seemed grumpy and weird.”  
  
Richie pushed the door open.  
  
“Holy fucking shit,” Patrick sputtered, momentarily gobsmacked by the over-the-top cheesiness in front of them. The entire room was decorated in pink and red – pink satin sheets, red curtains, red shag carpeting. The most amazing part was the enormous heart-shaped bed, with heart-shaped pillows. It was like the hotel room was one big valentine.  
  
Richie nudged Patrick to step back into the hallway, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You want me to carry you over the threshold?”  
  
Patrick laughed. “I don’t think so. You can try, but don’t blame me if you hurt your back or something.”  
  
Richie wasn’t going to back down from the challenge. He wrapped his arms around his waist and lifted him up, enough to get his feet off the ground. Patrick shrieked with laughter while he carried him into the room.  
  
They flopped onto the bed, giggling and kissing each other. Patrick nuzzled Richie’s throat, pressing his lips to his cheek and jaw line. Richie’s arms wrapped around him, holding him close. It felt so good to get off the road and just be together for awhile. They had the whole night to rest and catch up on sleep…or, more likely, to just fuck like crazy. It _was_ the honeymoon suite, after all.  
  
Patrick’s eyes drifted to something shiny and silver beside the bed. He leaned over to examine it, surprised to discover that it was actually a coin slot. “Oh wow. Richie, check this out.”  
  
“What’s that?”  
  
“If you insert 50 cents, the bed vibrates.”  
  
“No fucking way.” Richie sat up to get a look at it. “That thing looks hella old.”  
  
“I know. I think it’s been here a long time. Can you imagine how many people have probably fucked on this bed?” Patrick grimaced. “Ugh, let’s pretend I didn’t say that.”  
  
“Yeah, I don’t want to think about that.” Richie grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and dug out some loose change. He grinned at him. “You wanna try it out?”  
  
“Fuck yeah,” Patrick smirked, taking the quarters from him and slipping them into the slot. He flopped onto his back again, taking Richie’s hand and drawing him closer.  
  
Richie smiled and stroked his chest, climbing on top of him. They kissed, slow and romantic, the bed starting to vibrate a little underneath them. It actually felt pretty good, like making out in a massage chair.  
  
Patrick tugged at Richie’s shirt, pulling it up and over his head. He kissed him again, with greater urgency, his nails scraping down Richie’s back and his legs wrapping around his waist.  
  
Richie’s tongue swiped into his mouth and his hands worked the zipper of his jeans, sliding it down. Patrick sighed, “Yeah, like that,” when he felt his hand around his cock. “So good.”  
  
Richie was stroking him off and Patrick was moaning, when the bed suddenly shifted into a different gear. There was a clunking sound and then the gentle vibrations changed to full on shaking.  
  
“Oh. Shit.” Richie was startled, letting go of his cock and using his hands to brace himself on the bed. When he saw the similarly stunned expression on Patrick’s face they both started laughing.  
  
“It feels like we’re in an earthquake,” Patrick giggled.  
  
“I know. It scared me a little,” Richie admitted. He chuckled and gave Patrick a quick kiss. “You want to keep going?”  
  
“I don’t think I can,” Patrick shook his head and laughed. “It’s making me a little nauseous. I’m afraid I might throw up on you.”  
  
Richie laughed. “Yeah, that wouldn’t be very sexy.”  
  
Patrick ran his fingers through his hair, the bed still jostling them from side to side. “Besides, we need to do some unpacking and figure out which bag we put the lube and condoms in.”  
  
“Shit, you’re right,” Richie glanced over at their luggage. “I think it’s in the black one.”  
  
“You better figure it out,” Patrick murmured, mouthing at his chest. “Because I really want you to fuck me tonight.”  
  
“Yeah?” Richie grinned. He loved it when Patrick was assertive about what he wanted in bed.  
  
“Mmm-hm.” Patrick kissed him softly on the lips. “Nice and hard.”  
  
“On pink satin sheets,” Richie reminded him, glancing at the bed underneath them.  
  
“Why not?” Patrick giggled. “These sheets are so damn gay…actually, this whole room is,” he said, looking around and taking it all in.  
  
“I thought that too,” Richie laughed. “It reminds me of the Barbie Dream House my sister had when she was a kid.”  
  
“Your sister had that too? So did Megan.”  
  
Richie rolled off of Patrick and he tucked himself back into his pants, looking around the room and noticing a bottle of champagne sitting in an ice bucket, with a ribbon tied around it. He couldn’t wait to pop it open and celebrate.  
  
They got up from the bed, walking over to their duffle bags and unzipping them. There was a hard knock at the door and they both looked up from unpacking, curious about why someone would be coming to their room. Richie went over to answer it while Patrick pulled out a travel bag of toiletries.  
  
“Who is it?” He asked, noticing that Richie hadn’t greeted anyone when he opened the door.  
  
Richie stepped out into the hall and then came back in. “It isn’t anyone,” he said, baffled. “The hallway’s completely empty.”  
  
“Huh.” Patrick was confused too. They had both heard the knock. It was strange, but he decided not to worry about it. Maybe the noise had come from outside the building or something.  
  
Richie came over and helped him unpack everything they needed, the mysterious knock quickly forgotten. 

\---

“Ahhhh, this place is incredible,” Patrick declared, sinking down into the heart-shaped Jacuzzi bathtub. He picked up his champagne glass and enjoyed the view while Richie stripped off the rest of his clothes.  
  
“I can feel you staring at my ass,” Richie glanced over his shoulder and smirked at him. He stepped out of the pile of clothes on the floor and threw his legs over the edge of the tub, sliding in.  
  
“I can’t help myself,” Patrick grinned. “It’s a _really_ nice ass.”  
  
Richie kissed him, humming against his mouth while he sank lower into the water. When they were both in up to their shoulders, Patrick shifted around so he could lean back against Richie’s chest.  
  
“I’m glad you’re having a good time, Pato,” Richie murmured, pressing his lips against the side of his head. “I know some of the hotels we’ve stayed at have been kind of shitty.”  
  
Patrick closed his eyes. He felt so blissed out, soaking in a steamy tub with Richie’s arms around him. “I don’t care where we stay, as long as we’re together. I missed you so much when I was Denver.”  
  
“Me too. Couldn’t wait to have you back.”  
  
Patrick turned his head and met his lips for a kiss. “Let’s never do that again, ok?”  
  
“No, never.” Richie massaged Patrick’s shoulders and picked up his champagne glass from the edge of the tub, finishing it off. “I’ve got something in the other room you’re really gonna like,” he hinted, mysteriously.  
  
“Oh yeah?” Patrick smiled, his curiosity piqued. He couldn’t imagine what could possibly make this even better. Unless Beyoncé was actually in the other room, preparing to serenade them.  
  
“Uh huh, let me go and get it,” Richie nudged him forward so he could get out of the tub. He sprinted, wet and dripping, to the bedroom.  
  
Patrick couldn’t see what he was doing and he was getting more intrigued by the minute. He poured himself another glass of champagne, growing more impatient.  
  
“Ta da!” Richie finally strolled back into the bathroom, proudly holding up a joint and a lighter.  
  
“Oh God, I fucking love you." Patrick quickly slid over to him, accidentally sloshing water over the edge of the tub. Richie leaned over to kiss him before climbing back in, careful not to get the cigarette wet.  
  
“I thought we might need a little something extra to get us through the trip,” he explained, flicking the lighter.  
  
Patrick took the joint and inhaled. “Agustín said you gave him your stash before we left.”  
  
“I did – most of it.” Richie shrugged. “I didn’t want to tell you I still had some – I knew you’d freak out if we got pulled over.”  
  
“Fuck yeah I would.” Patrick thought about it for a minute. “Is that why you kept telling me not to drive so fast?”  
  
Richie took a drag. “Yeah,” he laughed dryly. “That and I didn’t want to die.”  
  
“Ha ha, very funny,” Patrick grinned, splashing a little water at him. “Maybe I’m just really anxious to get to Texas.”  
  
“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do when you get there?” Richie asked teasingly, sliding forward and wrapping his legs around him under the bubbles.  
  
Patrick smirked and stroked his thigh. “I don’t know, maybe just hang out with my amazing boyfriend all the time.”  
  
“That sounds good.” Richie cupped his cheek and Patrick leaned in to it. “What else?”  
  
“Well, this,” Patrick sighed, brushing their lips together. His hand moved from Richie’s thigh to his cock, wrapping around it.  
  
“Oh, fuck,” Richie dropped the joint on the edge of tub so he could get both hands on Patrick, pulling him even closer, their bodies moving together underneath the water. Patrick tilted his head back to deepen the kiss and Richie devoured his mouth, moaning and gasping while he jerked him off.  
  
They broke for air, their foreheads pressed together, and Patrick took a second to just stare at him. He sometimes felt awestruck to realize how lucky he was. They had been back together for months and he only seemed to fall deeper in love.  
  
“What else?” Richie asked again with a lopsided smile, his fingers brushing over Patrick’s lips. “You gonna do something with this mouth when we get to Texas?”  
  
It was a ridiculous question, since Patrick had already blown him at a few stops along the way – even once in the back of the truck. He would gladly add Arizona to the list though. His eyes darted over to the edge of the tub and Richie followed his gaze.  
  
They kissed one more time before Richie slid over to the side of the tub and hopped up, his legs still dangling in the water. It put him at the perfect level to receive a blowjob, his cock pointing right at Patrick’s face.  
  
“C’mere,” Richie said, guiding Patrick’s head between his legs, his fingers threading into his wet hair.  
  
Patrick smiled up at him, wrapping a hand around the base and opening his mouth wide, taking in as much of him as he could. He closed his eyes, listening to Richie’s moans and feeling him grip the back of his head.  
  
“Look so good, baby,” Richie grunted, his hips thrusting forward. “So sexy when you suck me off.”  
  
Patrick opened his eyes, pulling back to suck at the head. He was very certain he wasn’t the hottest looking person in that bathtub. Richie was so beautiful, he couldn’t look at him without getting turned on. “Gonna make you come down my throat,” he promised, swirling his tongue and feeling him tremble in response.  
  
“Oh yeah?” Richie grinned. His eyes had gone hazy, his arousal evident.  
  
“Mmhm,” Patrick responded, bobbing back down again and sucking hard on his swollen cock.  
  
Richie groaned, breathing heavy and whispering his encouragement. He tugged at Patrick’s hair, holding him where he wanted him.  
  
Steam was still rising from the tub, bubbly water lapping at Patrick’s skin while he went down on him. His lips were stretched around Richie’s cock and his hands were working everywhere his mouth couldn’t reach.  
  
“Ahhh, fuck yeah,” Richie breathed, using his free hand to grip the edge of the tub.  
  
Patrick looked up and saw that he had closed his eyes, his mouth falling open.  
  
This was what it was really like to be in love. He knew that now. It was the crazy rush of emotions that he felt every time he saw Richie’s face, or even heard his name. It was the reason he’d packed up everything to move to a city he’d never even visited. He would follow him anywhere.  
  
Richie growled out a warning a few seconds before he came, even though he didn’t need to. Patrick swallowed all of it, watching him the whole time. 

\----

“I think we should get a dog,” Patrick blurted out, sleepy and stoned. They were naked under the covers, smoking the rest of the weed that Richie had brought with him.  
  
“What kind of dog do you want?” Richie asked, brushing a thumb against his cheek.  
  
Patrick smiled, leaning against his chest. “I don’t know, maybe a Chihuahua…and I’m not saying that because you’re Mexican, I promise. I just really like them.”  
  
Richie laughed. “That’s cool. I like them too.”  
  
“I always wanted a dog when I was a kid, but my mom wouldn’t let us get one.” Patrick took the joint back from Richie and inhaled. “She said she was allergic, but I don’t think she is though. I’m pretty sure she just didn’t want a dog peeing on her rugs.”  
  
Richie nudged Patrick to move aside so he could sit up. He pulled back the sheet and got out of bed.  
  
“Where are you going?” Patrick asked, rolling over onto his stomach.  
  
Richie pulled back the blinds and cracked open the window. “Just getting the smoke out. I don’t want the room to stink when we leave,” he explained. He climbed back into bed with him, giving his bare ass a playful slap.  
  
Patrick grinned, heat stirring low in his belly from the contact. He reached over and put what was left of the joint on the nightstand. “There’s air freshener in the bathroom,” He told him, glancing in that direction. “And you left the light on in there, by the way.”  
  
“No, I didn’t,” Richie said, not looking up. His attention was focused on Patrick’s ass, squeezing his cheeks and then slowly parting them.  
  
“Well, someone did.” Patrick gasped when he felt the first flick of his tongue against his hole. He gripped the pillow. “Jesus, please do that again.”  
  
Richie giggled and dove back in, burying his face between his cheeks. He licked insistently at his ass, tracing the rim and then easing his tongue inside to fuck him with his mouth.  
  
Patrick shoved back against his face, wanting more. “Oh shit, oh fuck.” It was hard to remember a time when he had been hesitant to let him do this. He realized now that he might have been a little crazy, because Richie was fucking great at it.  
  
He was muttering unintelligibly into the pillow when he heard the cap open on a bottle of lube. Richie worked a finger in alongside his tongue while Patrick groaned.  
  
“Never fucked you on a heart-shaped bed before,” Richie chuckled.  
  
“Or pink sheets,” Patrick gasped, feeling the second finger go in. He wanted his cock so bad, desperate to feel that heavy fullness inside of him. How he had lived without it for all those months in Denver he really didn’t know, and he never wanted to find out again.  
  
Richie tore open the condom and Patrick rose up on his knees, turning around to face him. They kissed, messy and hungry, tongues sliding together.  
  
“Wanna ride you,” Patrick breathed against his mouth, nudging him onto his back and climbing on top of him. They made out some more before he pulled himself up, slowly lowering down onto Richie’s cock. “Uhh. _God_ ,” he groaned.  
  
Richie choked back a moan, smiling at him broadly.  
  
“What?” Patrick asked, grinning back at him and stroking his chest. He stayed still, not moving yet.  
  
“You,” he gasped. “Love seeing your face when you get my dick up your ass.” Richie wrapped a hand around his cock, giving him a few firm jerks.  
  
“Feels so good.” Patrick lifted up and slammed back down again.  
  
Richie panted, breathing hard. “Shit, Pato.” He planted his feet on the bed and met his rhythm, thrusting up to fuck into him.  
  
Patrick closed his eyes, his head falling forward, losing himself in the feeling of Richie’s cock sliding in and out of him. Sweat trickled down his forehead and he bit his lip.  
  
“Hey,” Richie whispered, his hands gripping his thighs.  
  
Patrick looked up to meet his gaze. Richie smiled at him and his heart swelled, overcome with so warmth and love. He fell forward, their sweat slicked chests sliding together, and kissed him until they were both breathless.  
  
“Love you, love you, love you,” he murmured against his mouth, rocking into him.  
  
“Love you too, Pato. So fucking much.” 

\----

Patrick awoke in the early hours of the morning, feeling a slight chill. They had fallen asleep with the window open. Richie’s body was wrapped around him and he was snoring softly. He wriggled away, careful not to wake him up, and slowly pulled himself into a sitting position.  
  
The light in the bathroom was now off, which was weird, since he didn’t remember either of them getting out of bed to do it.  
  
He pulled back the covers and scooted over to the edge of the bed, figuring that the lightbulb must have burned out during the night. He glanced over his shoulder, to the other side of the room, and froze, his blood running cold.  
  
The old man from the front desk, the one who had checked them in earlier, was standing there, watching him with that same disapproving frown still plastered on his face.  
  
“Oh my God! Holy shit!” Patrick jumped up, grabbing to turn on the light.  
  
Richie grumbled, waking up and covering his eyes from the sudden brightness. “Patrick, what are you doing? It’s 4 a.m. – what the fuck?”  
  
“He was here – he was in our room! He was standing right over there!”  
  
“Who?” Richie rubbed his eyes, not seeing anyone where Patrick was pointing.  
  
“The guy from the front desk.” Patrick was practically hyperventilating. He felt like he was losing it. He didn’t understand how he had disappeared so quickly. “Swear to God, Richie, he was really here.”  
  
“Ok, it’s alright.” Richie saw how freaked out he was and reached out to comfort him.  
  
Patrick sank down on the edge of the bed, still shaking with fear. “I don’t know what’s happening. I really did see him.”  
  
Richie put his arms around him and rubbed his back. “Maybe you had a nightmare or something.”  
  
“No,” Patrick was adamant. “I was definitely awake.”  
  
“He’s not here though,” Richie pointed out. “How’d he leave so fast?”  
  
“That’s the part I can’t figure out.” Patrick realized he sounded crazy, but he couldn’t help it. He knew what he’d seen.  
  
“You want me to look around the room, make sure no one’s here?”  
  
Patrick nodded, grateful to have a boyfriend who was so supportive, even after he’d scared him out of bed in the middle of the night.  
  
Richie got up and looked around, peeking in the closet and then flicking on the light in the bathroom. He even stepped in there and walked around. “It’s just us,” he announced when he came back out.  
  
Patrick felt relieved, but still completely dumbfounded over what had transpired. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You must think I’m nuts. I woke you up for nothing.”  
  
“No, hey,” Richie got back in bed and gave him a hug. “It’s alright, you just got a little freaked out, that’s all.”  
  
Patrick sank into his embrace, holding onto him and resting his head on his shoulder. “It’s so weird. I really thought he was here.”  
  
They lay back down and Richie pulled the covers back up over them. “Maybe you just need more sleep,” he suggested, petting Patrick’s hair. “Sleep deprivation can do weird shit sometimes.”  
  
“Yeah,” Patrick agreed, yawning and nuzzling against Richie’s chest. “It was so real though. He looked so angry, I thought he was going to come after us or something.”  
  
Richie’s arms were around him, holding him snugly. His lips pressed against his forehead. “That’s not gonna happen,” he murmured quietly. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”  
  
Patrick eventually fell asleep again, but it took a while. There was an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t get rid of. He kept wondering if it had really happened or if it was just his imagination.

\----

Richie let Patrick sleep as long as he could the next morning. He had already showered and re-packed their bags by the time Patrick’s eyes finally opened. He was glad to be leaving this place. After what had happened earlier, he wasn’t interested in sticking around.  
  
They went downstairs to check out and Patrick was relieved to find someone else behind the desk – a thirtysomething woman with blonde hair and a cheery smile.  
  
Richie handed over their key.  
  
“Did you enjoy your stay?” the woman asked brightly.  
  
“Uh, yeah, it was great,” Richie responded.  
  
“Well, we’d appreciate it if you’d take this brochure and fill out our online survey. There’s the link right there.”  
  
“Sure, we’ll do that.” Patrick took the brochure from her and flipped it open, his anxiety suddenly ramping up again. “Who is this?” he asked, pointing at a picture of the man he had seen in their room early that morning.  
  
The clerk gave him a toothy grin. “That’s Mr. Phillips. He was the original owner. He founded the Desert Inn in 1962.”  
  
“And he still works here?” Richie asked.  
  
“Oh _no_ ,” she was quick to reply. “He passed away about twenty years ago. He worked here right up until the end though.”  
  
Patrick felt like he might faint. His eyes went wide and he reached out to grab Richie’s hand.  
  
Richie looked at him with an equally alarmed expression on his face. “That’s, uh, really interesting,” he choked out, turning back to the clerk. “We’ll be sure to fill out that survey.”  
  
“Thank you for visiting,” she smiled. “Please remember us the next time you’re passing through.”  
  
“Oh, we will,” Patrick promised, gripping Richie’s hand tightly as they hurried out of there.

\----

“So, there was a ghost in our room. We stayed in a fucking haunted hotel,” Patrick rambled, when they were back in the truck. “A ghost - watching us sleep, watching us fuck.”  
  
“I know. It scared the shit out of me when she said that,” Richie admitted.  
  
“There has to be some other explanation,” Patrick said firmly. “There can’t just be ghosts flying around people’s hotel rooms. That can’t be a thing.”  
  
Richie steered the wheel around a sharp turn. “It happens sometimes, Pato. There are souls that have unfinished business on earth, so they hang around until they can move on.”  
  
“You really believe in that, the whole paranormal thing?” Patrick asked skeptically.  
  
“Yeah. Well, some of it…most of it’s bullshit, like the psychics on TV and all that.” Richie kept his eyes on the road. “But there’s definitely some truth to it.”  
  
“Well, obviously,” Patrick gulped, turning his gaze out the window. “You know, our friends are never going to believe us when we tell them about this.”  
  
Richie laughed. “They’ll want to know what we were on.”  
  
“Yeah, and where they can get some,” Patrick grinned.  
  
They fell into silence, both thinking about the strange experience they had just had. Patrick slumped back in his seat, his sleepless night catching up with him. He picked up his iPod, hoping music would help him stay awake.  
  
“Honey, honey, I can see the stars all the way from here,” sang Beyoncé.  
  
“Can’t you see the glow on the window pane?” Patrick picked up on the next line.  
  
“I can feel the sun whenever you’re near,” Richie piped in.  
  
Patrick broke into a huge grin.  
  
“What?” Richie asked, smiling. “I thought you wanted me to sing with you.”  
  
“I do,” Patrick giggled. “I love hearing you sing.”  
  
“Nothing’s perfect, but it’s worth it after fighting through my fears,” they sang together.  
  
“Ok, I _was_ off-key there,” Patrick admitted.  
  
“I thought it sounded good, Pato.”  
  
“Yeah? Well, maybe I’m getting better then.”  
  
Patrick belted out the next line with even more confidence, their voices blending together as they sped off down the highway.


End file.
